


Blue Morphine

by Kaamos (reckless_love)



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, entirely melkor's point of view, unintentional use of drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 22:59:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15083594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reckless_love/pseuds/Kaamos
Summary: They call it 'Blue Angel'. When Melkor runs it out completely, things rapidly evolve around him.





	Blue Morphine

**Author's Note:**

> This vignette is inspired by [Morphine - Super Sex](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TrJ39k981JU). This song gives the taste and a kind of background for the story. Also the chapter is named after the band, mixing it with the cocktail's name "Blue angel".  
> Here in the story, the cocktail is...ehm...a bit dilute with something else.
> 
> P.s.: Blue Angel is done with 1 Part Gin, 1 Part Blue Curaçao, 1 Part Cointreau, 1 Part Lemon Juice and ⅓ Part Violet Liqueur. Yes, it's a bomb.

 The feeling begins with an extremely euphoric moment and an unnatural sense of pleasure. Melkor is quite convinced that something is wrong but the man dancing with him only says that things are wonderful around them.

It really is quite beautiful.

It is a halo of deep blue light surrounding a field of deeper blue. Whoever did the lights in there did an excellent job – Melkor thinks.  
And the music. God, the music. He gets details in the music never noticed earlier, and hears them as each is reflecting off the walls. It is starting to grow on him: geocentric spirals from the drum leading the heart pulse and a deep sax running smooth and sexy straight into the blood vessels. Melkor is high, no doubt about it. 

The way the man looks at him.

Some people are blessed with hypnotic eyes. Just like the young man before him, who can make men and women swoon over his beauty by simply looking them intensely. Getting closer to him, the man gathers his long blonde hair with one hand and holds it off his neck. Following the throb of the sax, he does some little pelvic motions against Melkor’s leather-clad thigh.

Warm waves of intimacy and enjoyment come rolling over him, softly breaking on his torrid skin, the water receding through goose bumps. Rhythm. The younger man. Heat. His body, as the man moves so naturally, so smooth, lost in enjoyment. When that celestial being wraps his arms around Melkor’s shoulders and starts to kiss the base of his throat, it leads to a rush of, oh, so intense feel-good effect, much higher than what he could experience from whatever natural pleasure.

The man could have whoever in that room, but has chosen him.

Melkor leans over and nuzzles the blonde's throat, not so subtly with one hand rubbing and fondling the small of his back. He dances with him. He never danced before.

Melkor catches his burning eyes once again and the man smirks back at him. He puts a hand on Melkor’s arm and just says, “It could be better”.

Music. Lips. Eyes. Touch —  everything is better than before. For a few moments, two bodies are synchronised: that’s all that matters. Only Melkor’s and the beautiful man.

Melkor puts a hand flat on his belly, and it is electrifying from this simplest of contacts, while he feels his hand becoming a kind of channel of the animalistic carnality emanating from their bodies.

The man takes his hand in his; through the crowd, they leave for the bar in the next room. The man just orders two large glasses of water. Melkor takes the first gulp immediately, only then noticing how much dry his mouth was, how much thirsty he was. The second is enjoyed more than a glass of water usually is, especially after the young man charmed with his voluptuous eyes the barkeeper into giving them two ice cubes: he gave him a glass full of them. He presses one against the skin of his neck: he gasps in pleasure as he trails it from the back to the base of his throat and down below the collarbone. “Amazing”, he whispers, conscious or not of his fleshliness. Then, the ice cube, cold and wet, is pressed against the sensitive skin of Melkor’s lips: he can only suck at it greedily when two fingers penetrate his mouth.

The man giggles, “Just tell me that your home is not that far from here”, languorously adds.

They once again made their way through the crowd towards the exit, this time Melkor leading the two of them. With the door locked behind them, the music is distant, the frenetic city around them muffled like in a dream, streetlights of a bothering muddy blue painting the night sky. They could talk without screaming and listen without straining. But, lost all care for hiding or showing anything, just calmly floating in that sharping sense of attractiveness, they choose silence of a more marked sensation, fingers intertwined, veins pulsing at the same throb, experiencing sensations of warmth, relaxation, and coziness.

They walk floating and then, a few minutes later, reach and enter Melkor’s flat. Steps echo as they enter the lift.  
Starting to nod off for no reason at all, Melkor slowly turns the key in the slot next to the buttons of the lift. It is as if his mind is working intermittently, alternating between consciousness and semi-consciousness. Nevertheless, the man steps closer and pecks little kisses along his throat; quick fingers lift his tee shirt to allow the mouth to go down his body until he reaches his stomach. The joy Melkor feels at the sight is wanton: he likes this sudden thrust of passion, the tingling effect of that brief moment feeling a little more free, wildly grasping on his neck. He wants to burn himself following the desire. He pulls him into their first kiss. One luscious taste of his lips on his tongue only leaves him hungry for more.

The lift doors open directly into Melkor’s flat. Dark, deep blue and grey. The man smiles softly.

Suddenly fury fills him, burning fiercely in his veins, flooding him with a need to explore the man. Melkor pulls him in his arms and the man docilely acquiesces. This slightest of stimulation already sends a wave of pleasure through his spine. Every single nerve ending seems to be individually noticeable and traceable when currents transfix the flesh. Muscles clench, enjoying a second jolt of these serene inner fireworks. Melkor’s arm tightens around him, causing him to sigh. The warmth of his body feels like a mirror of his own. One hand gingerly grazes the bulge in his jeans.

With no hesitation, Melkor opens the zipper, pulling his half-hard cock upwards and out: it seems enormous in his hand. Under the constant pull, it gets to that point of no return. The massage and the cold sensation of air are doing their part too, when Melkor drops on his knees in between his legs to face his full rock-hard cock. Shivering and closing his eyes, there, Melkor finds an underwater universe of decors and lights moving in intricate patterns every possible way. It is a kind of infinite euphoria commanding his attention and he drifts off into the bliss of their closeness.

Pointing straight ahead, Melkor leans in giving a gentle kiss on the tip of the cock. Before he can react, he feels the man’s hand on the back of his head and his own mouth pushing forward over it. The man moans softly while forcing Melkor down half of the cock before letting him go. Melkor glances up at his wanting eyes, and then back to his task. He retracts his mouth to the head, and then, to the man’s surprise, he gulps all the whole length down.

Rolling his head back, the younger man moans louder, as Melkor buries his nose in his groin. His shaft glistens, as he greedily sucks on it. His soft, wet lips slides up and down for about some minutes, before feeling the cock twitching and his warm taste in his mouth.

Standing on his feet, Melkor is hit again by drowsiness. The room around him starts spinning fast, faster. Like so the man guides him towards the couch and lets him sit down, getting comfortable on it. Then, he kneels in between his legs running his hands over his thighs, smirking up at him, hungry to help himself to a taste. Absolutely awesome.

The younger man begins unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his leather trousers, his erection very evident and enormous. Pulling trousers and underwear down at the same time, Melkor’s thick cock springs to his attention, the man smilingly grazes with only index finger along the length of it.

Melkor shivers, and closes the eyes, floating away, drifting off into the numbness of his mind.

*

 

When some hours later Melkor wakes up, he finds himself with his trousers still unbuttoned but the cock back in his underwear. Now, the only thing he is experiencing is a terrible headache.

He looks around and swears against himself. The man is no longer there, the wallet still does, but on the floor and empty of all money and credits cards.

A tablet from headache he needs, and then he will see what he has to do. He steps into the bathroom.

On the mirror over the washbasin, there is a number written with a black eye pencil.

Near the sink, a wad of cash and all his credit cards.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ♡Thank you for reading♡  
> I know it's just silly.


End file.
